So you ate it, drank it, spent it, peed it, pooped it and puked it.
If you overdid it and pulled on your work pants this week for the first time since mid-December and were daft enough to breathe out too fast, you were lucky the button didn’t ping off at the speed of sound and embed itself in the wall like a dart.
Either that or you couldn’t get your skirt to go up over your hips without doing an impression of a woman being swallowed whole by a python.
It’s funny, because before Christmas, the TV, newspapers and the internet were yelling at us to BUY MORE STUFF.
And because we’ve been conditioned to basically do what we’re told, we did what we were told and spent literally billions on tat, booze and food that’ll kill us.
But hang on, what’s this? Even before your new year hangover has lifted, the papers and the telly are full of guff about losing weight, getting fit, dry January and being happy with less, not more. Well, they can’t have it both ways. In the days that blurred into one between Christmas and New Year, we idly stuffed anything we could lay our hands on into our cake-holes thanks to little more than muscle memory and habit, while at the same time expending less daily energy than a hibernating bear.
The telly and the internet told us this was okay. In fact the telly and the internet told us to do it.
Right up until 4pm on Christmas Eve when the shops shut and the adverts suddenly changed from flogging us the drink, chocolates and perfume to villa holidays, cheap flights and gym memberships.
We were fattened up for Christmas and now our clothes don’t fit like they did a few weeks ago because we’re full of sugar, fat and booze, so guess what? They’ve got a remedy for that they want to sell us.
It’s a miracle cure called a detox, something we carry around with us anyway - our kidneys and our liver.
I’m not saying you can’t buy them once yours have packed up. But the people selling them don’t tend to advertise on the ad breaks between The Great Christmas Bake Off. Well, not for about another five years.